


Fang It

by harrowmarrow



Series: Two Nights with a Revhead and Redhead [2]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrowmarrow/pseuds/harrowmarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nux escapes the watchful eye of the Vuvalini to sleep in the rig, but is kept awake by the chatter of his mates, Larry and Barry. That is, until the object of their bickering sticks her red head in through the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fang It

Nux slips away from the hushed sounds of women in the night, the Vuvalini and their young protégé dotted along the ridge of a dune. Their voices are a smattering of exclamations, laughter and grave murmurs, and for a moment none of the older women are tracking him out the corner of a well-trained eye. All day he has felt like he was cresting a hill in the pursuit vehicle, his stomach lurching up into his ribs, but it is worse now, in this quiet. He can feel it trembling in his arms – he has nothing to do. Nothing but sit somewhere and think of it. A soft death. 

It is surely coming now, as he trails this pack of bikers and breeders. It drags on his steps like a heavy chain that runs under the sand all the way back to the Citadel, making the breath rasp in his chest a little more with each hour, each mile. He can feel them starting to nibble, Larry and Barry, growing anxious, sliding their teeth around his windpipe. It sounds like a whisper, Larry’s light, needling voice in his ear, always looking for hope.

 _He’ll come, he’ll raise us up as high as the sun. He caught it, he caught it in his bare hand, and rose with it again, immortal … go back to him, and we are safe, we are saved!_

Barry’s teeth are harder, stronger, his voice the sound of twisting metal, sawing at his veins.

_There is no going back! We’re smeg to him. There is nothing for us now but sand and flies and the long rattle, soft and squishy. They could put us under the tires to make it quick. Or bake us in the sun so we rave and don’t feel it, leave us here. Leave us behind. They want to. And do we want an old woman’s claws on our face at the end? Soft and pitying, soft, soft – it’s all gone soft and rotten._

Nux pulls himself up the back of the rig, hopping through the window of the cab welded to the back as a look-out. His restless fingers pat over his pockets and belts, touching the wrenches and bolts he might use for something. He could go down under the rig and hang there for awhile, poking at the cables and nuts Furiosa fixed earlier. That would hide the quiet. But he turns about in the cab instead, wrestling off his boots to feel the rusted metal on the bottom of his feet. One foot had been bare as he lay here, when she had … 

Larry’s whisper lifts up like a wondering child. _Maybe SHE would touch us at the end, she’s soft._ The tone turns haughty, looking down its nose at Barry. _There, I said it. Soft, soft, wonderful soft. She would too, I know she would. Remember how she cradled us –_

Barry’s voice grates with irritated contempt. _She was only rubbing the sand from her skin. Scratching an itch. You don’t think she meant it, do you? Stupid smeg, she’s been touched by Immortan. She has half a life more than you and shiny blood. She only took us because she needs it like sleep and milk, she’s a BREEDER, sun’s sake –_

_She gave us water. She liked it. You heard her, she said WE were shiny –_

_She was keeping us silent! Keeping us stowed! She knew we’d do anything for her if she got us wet –_

Larry does sound a bit worried at that, rubbing his nose up and down Nux’s spine with a plaintive whine. _Yes, and we have kept silent. No one knows what we did. Why hasn’t she said? Why hasn’t she come to find us tonight? She doesn’t want them to see, to think she rides in this rust bucket._ Larry gives a wistful, resigned sigh. _She’s soft and wise – we ARE scrap. They’d spit on her if they knew._

 _We spit on them, we got that Imperator right in the eye! If Immortan saw that –_ Barry’s triumphant exclamation cuts off. After a quiet moment Larry says the glum truth they all know.

_He wouldn’t care. Not now._

Barry picks up again, desperate. _But we could get the Imperator for him proper, ask her to follow us behind the rig now that she trusts us. Steal a bike in the night and fang it._

_Oh! We could steal a bike! And then we could steal –_

_Not HER, you limp slanger. Didn’t I just say she used us. She tied us down, and we took it, idling there like a cowering lancer. There’s no glory in that –_

Larry’s voice grows into a teary wail in response. _I don’t care about glory, I want her to touch us again. She can tie us up, she can do whatever she –_

Barry’s hiss scorches Nux’s spine with white hot pain. _Listen to yourself! We’re already half dead. If we let this get to us, let it fog us up, we’ll die slow and smelly out here. You know she’s going across the flats. You know that’s the softest idea a smeg ever had. And we’re going to run at her heels, for giving us water?_

_But the water she gave, the slick in her … we’ve never felt that. She let us have it._

_I can’t believe we’re going to die out here just so we can stick our shift in that slick again._

_It wasn’t just slick. She’s been smiling at us. She’s been worried._

_She’s been greasing the revhead she needs for the rig._

Larry positively whimpers in response to Barry’s acidic scorn. _Will she grease us again? Does she need us, really? I don’t mind that, I want her to come. She saw us go up here, where is she? Has she forgotten us? Let’s pray again. Let’s pray for –_

_NO._

Nux strokes the two lumps at his throat, quieting the latest skirmish between his mates, gnawing away at the back of his mind. The soothing touch will stop it for a moment, long enough to try to put their jabbering on about _her_ out of his head. He scoots about the cab in a cramped version of pacing, checking the jug of nitro he has stashed, and the wrench that’s too heavy for a canvas loop in his pants. He has the things he needs. Everything is as ready as it can be. He should sleep. 

With a quick flip, he stretches out on the seat bench, his knees splayed and his bare feet padding up and down on the metal. His hands work over each other, his fingers slipping into the familiar shape of the V8 and then twisting out of it. He wants more than anything to make that sign. To press the V8 over his face and get lost in it. Dream of the sun’s heat filling him up, lifting his body far above, blinded by gleaming chrome and lost in the rumble of Immortan’s engine, clasping the side of his rig forever. 

With a squashed groan Nux’s back arches, sickened to a pasty green by a wave of abject humiliation. He had clung to the door of that shiny rig. He had chrome glistening on his teeth, sprayed by Immortan’s hand himself. And then he – then he – 

Nux’s hands are clasped in the V8, smothering his face, choking his breath. Anything is better than returning to that moment of despair, his utter worthlessness. Even the shooting thrill of remembering her is better, making his stomach soft and rotten, weakening his knees. His fingers trace his lips in the same way she did, giving in to the unsettling novelty of pure basking. His lips form a foreign shape, soaking wet and shiny.

“ _Capable … Capable … Capa -_ ”

“Nux?” 

Nux rockets up with a choke in his throat, obscuring the sound that was on his lips. Barry’s string of blistering curses can’t quite drown out Larry’s gasp: _She came!_

Nux tips over at the edge of the seat, one long arm wrapped around his stomach, his eyes flashing repeatedly to where Capable’s head and shoulders are poking in through the window of the cab. Her hair is a darker burnt red in the darkness, and she has a look of hesitant kindness on her face, like she would slip away again if that were preferred. She doesn’t wish to impose, even when she is offering tenderness. 

_Don’t let her go, make her stay!_

_And how do you suggest we do that, drag her in with a winch?_

But Larry’s agitated hand-wringing won’t listen to Barry’s black mutter. _I know! Say you can teach her how to use the wrench, she’d like that, she’ll see how clever we are. She’ll want to touch us, then, in thanks!_

Barry’s wary growl cuts in. _What is she here for, anyway. She’s making us soft –_

Larry pipes up over him with a dizzy, spinning cry. _No she’s not, it’s happened again. We’re hard as a –_

Nux claps a hand over the lumps on his neck, stifling Larry's unwelcome observation of the effect Capable's sudden appearance has had on his body. He fights off the awful, lop-sided smile crawling up one side of his face and ducks his head, avoiding her bright, peering eyes. Larry's next whisper rasps all the more loudly in the awkward silence.

_She’s looking, can she see it? Oh she likes it, she wants us again –_

_Will you SHUT IT?_

Both voices hush as the rest of Capable slips in through the window, the curled toes of her shoes touching lightly on the floor of the cab, like she is still worried this might be an intrusion. She is certainly watching him closely, to check if it is. He licks his cracked lips, making them spasm in a smile. He hastily suppresses it.

“You were talking with one of the old ones out there. Are we riding with them now? They aren’t fond of me. But you know, I could … I could keep things going for you. For them.” 

Barry’s voice is a hollow sneer, defeated. _That’s it. We’ve slobbered now like a stupid smeg._

_Shh! She’ll take us, I’m sure. Look at her, she even shines in the dark –_

“We’d be glad to have you. After last night, we all would. You have a place here now, with us. If you want it.” Capable slides over onto the seat, her linens wrapped around her legs and shoulders against the chill. Nux keeps track of the two feet that remain between them out the corner of his eye, rocking slightly. 

_Yes! Tell her we’ll go anywhere, anywhere she wishes, don’t let her take it back –_

_Wait, not yet. Let it rest, let her think we might not._ Even Barry’s grudging caution carries a note of stirring excitement now. 

Nux licks his dry, puffy lips, his eyes flashing to her and then away. He nods quickly, the smile slipping out more fully. When she sees it, Capable smiles back, leaning closer. Her hand finds its way out of her tightly wrapped shawl and squeezes his knee. Rests there. 

_I was right!_ It is a gleeful crow. _Do you feel that Barry? Oh glory, we’ll have it. We’ll have it again –_

 _Shut up._ Barry’s voice is a low scrape, sharpened by the desperate need that is clamping them all to the seat under Capable’s warm hand. _We might, if you don’t go and rust it up with your softness, your moaning. No crying. No begging. Got it?_

 _But, but I was right –_

“I’m glad to have you, Nux. None of us expected one of you – the War Boys I mean –“ She has tilted her head, trying to taste that description, decide if it is still right for him. “We never thought one of you would be with us. But you make it feel real, somehow, like our lives are really changing. We haven’t just escaped for the day. Everything is different. You’re different.” 

Her hand comes up and settles carefully along the side of his shaved head, cupping behind his ear and kneading a little. Nux’s eyes swivel to hers, locking onto the round, gleaming look she is giving him. They breathe together with labored precision, welded into a single thing by her touch.

Larry’s whisper quivers with grateful pleasure. _Yes, yes, yes, yes …_

_Fang it. Fang it now, idiot!_

_Wait, slow down. She made it safe last time. We’re not tied. Let’s do that, and then she can –_

_FANG IT._

Nux hangs beneath Capable’s curious, stroking palm as she re-discovers the spongy curve of his skull, following the cords of his neck and shoulder, pulled tight in his awkward pose. Barry’s berating picks up again when her fingers are safely past him, beating at the back of Nux’s neck with a bludgeon of cruel impatience.

_What are you DOING? Are you a piss-soaked smeg or a War Boy? You’ve got a burning shift, you’ve had it all day, just waiting, begging for this – fang it hard or Slit was right you’re a walking corpse. Do you think he’d stall like this? He’d have jammed that slick until she couldn’t walk by now._

Larry is even less helpful, warbling faintly in a dreamy daze. _Let’s touch her hair, it’s so shiny … her cheek, taste it once. Just once, she won’t mind –_

_Her cheek? Immortan’s sun! Throw her over the back there and feel that slick –_

_Oh yes, the slick, the slick –_

_It’s right there, we need it – DO IT._

Nux’s stare is glued to the slim wrist by his face, tracing along the slope of her arm. His own arms would like to twitch, jerk his hands into her linen and rub it, marveling, find her smooth thigh beneath it –

“Do you think it was wrong. Before, when I – I used you as a breeder. I followed Immortan, in his footsteps. Did you despise it, after.” 

Capable's eyes narrow thoughtfully, perhaps trying to decide if his mention of Immortan sounded reverent or regretful. 

_That’s it? THAT’S what you say? Of all the stupid, limp slangered –_

_Wait, Barry. Wait, she’s … she’s …_

Larry stutters into stupefied silence, for Capable has practically curled up in Nux’s lap, her arms winding around his bare shoulders. "Oh War Boy ... that wasn't using me." Nux doesn’t get to see how brilliant her eyes are, her lashes wet, because her warm lips have come over his own, gently meeting the ridges of scars. 

Nux is suspended in a perfectly blissful moment of quiet. Not the empty quiet that drove him into the rig from the dunes, but a full quiet, the quiet of a cup brimming with water. The dream of this has never been far from his thoughts since it first happened, boiling up like hot oil with crazed plans for what he would do the next time. 

All day his skin has been bubbling, blistering from the inside with waves of heat, the idea it could happen again. When he crawled up into the rig’s cabin to try to get it out of the sucking mud, when he loped out ahead of the rig through the sour land, and certainly when he dozed in the back seat of the cabin with a jumble of limbs and boots sprawled over him. Capable nudged up under his ribs, her head tipped on his shoulder. 

Glory, like he was going to sleep like that. He did, out of threadbare necessity, but every jolt of the road, every slice of sunshine through his lids, sent a bolt of electricity to his stomach. She was there, the plain fact of her body immediate and raw, vividly recalling how it felt for a wet mess to slide over his dick, somehow formless and tight at the same time – and he would be hard, right there in the cab, his stomach clamped like rock, a little bit of sick thrown up in his throat. 

His body has turned into an unpredictable, nitro-fueled engine, fine-tuned to roar out from a standstill at the lightest pump to the gas. He’s never felt it like this before. Even Larry and Barry’s war for his windpipe doesn’t leave him winded like this. It feels like life. Life suddenly seizing him by the shift and jamming it up to the highest gear. 

Nux stares through hooded eyes, the blue night sky a blur beyond the burnt orange of the cab, taking Capable’s lip in his teeth. She sucks in a breath and he bites hard, the seized pistons in his chest working loose, getting greased. His arms clench around her, moving her deeper onto his lap. He tastes blood, and he wants more of it to match the pounding rush in his face, his veins. He needs a sharp sensation, to bear this flood of soft warmth, exploding in his belly – 

“Stop, stop it!” Capable has yanked back, a hand flown over her mouth, pressing to stop the bleeding. Nux’s throat bobs madly, his hands squeezing around her thinly wrapped waist in a vain attempt to reassure her, or protest, at any rate keep her there, keep her from escaping. 

Capable stiffens, tuned to this sort of tightening grip with acute sensitivity. Her head snaps back like a burning whip, and she seizes his large hands. They turn floppy under her touch, his jaw sagging as she pushes off of him, leaping back to the window.

His voice unlocks in his throat, cracking like he’s waking from a long sleep. “Wait. I forgot – I forgot how soft you are.”

Capable has partially crawled into the window of the cab, a distant frown fixed on her face. But behind it she is thinking, staring at his bare feet, and then up along his arms like they are their own creatures, and might snap around her again unexpected, uncontrolled.

“Don’t do that again.” Her voice is hard, final. Testing to see if he’ll take it. One of his grease-stained hands hangs out between them.

“I won’t.” Her eyes merely narrow. His hand falls, scraping over his skull and then smacking his cheek hard, to wake him up more. “I'll save it for me." He demonstrates, biting at his puffy lip. "I like the taste, makes me feel … alive.” The last is said as he leans quickly back, for she has floated over to him again on her curl-toed slippers and sunk down between his knees. She rests her arms on his thighs, her hands folded under her chin. Her eyes lance up at him, direct and simple.

“There are other ways to feel alive. What if I tasted you?” 

Nux does his best to keep breathing as her hands fall upon the layers of belts and buckles at his waist. He goes to sink his hand in her hair and stops, hovering, at the slanted look of warning she gives it. He opens his palm to show it is empty. 

“It’s not going to hurt. It’s not going to hurt you.” 

With her eyes still locked on his hand, Capable gives the barest nod and his fingers fumble into her loose braids. He finds the hollow at the back of her head, a round dip to match her shoulders and hips, sour saliva washing his mouth in sudden, slamming excitement. She watches the shudder that goes through him, and then bends over the buckles to really make a go of getting the stiff ones undone. As the last one releases, he gives a gurgle, his head tipped back, his eyes swiveling across the ceiling, back and forth. 

“Glory ... glory, I wanted to feel this again –“ He tugs her hair in a spasming grip. “So shiny.”

Capable’s brow quirks and her mouth opens, drawing his stiff dick down to her. “And I wanted to feel this.” Her mouth sinks over him, taking in as much as she can at a slow, experimental pace. 

Nux sits there with his mouth hanging open, his tongue getting thicker and drier by the moment. He feels more – more nudging and licking – and his gaze slowly drops to where Capable is holding him in her hand, a look of entranced puzzlement on her face. His own expression would match seeing his guts spilling into her fingers. 

After a few more gulping moments of Nux’s pleasure-induced rigamortis, Capable pulls up on her knees, panting. The light in her eyes has changed. It has become slicing and serious, her body hardened by the same taut energy that is arching his own. He watches her wrappings fall to the floor with dimly registered amazement. Barry and Larry are nothing now but differently charged groans in the back of his brain, a high hum of trilling excitement that would rattle all the way down to his foot and make it kick repeatedly, and a low string of curses, spat and gasped and gritted by turns. 

Capable’s bare skin glows in the moonlight, poised before him with one hand squeezing over her chest, half covering it. Caught in a characteristic moment of hesitance, despite the fact her daring plan is almost finished. 

Nux is slumped before her on the seat, his pale arms splayed to either side of his open knees, his black canvas pants still caught around them, dragging with heavy pockets and tools. His head tilts back, a wild glint in his sunken eyes and a slanted smile cracking his lips. He licks them quickly, and it has the flavor of giving something up, his body settling deeper in the seat like he's just slipped behind a wheel. 

“Fang it.” 

Capable steps back so she can take a little run at him, and does just that. 

It is much faster and freer this time, for both of them are loose and eager, having waited for it. Nux keeps his arms plastered to the metal shell of the hollowed out cabin, despite Barry’s aggressive howls, and he fights off finishing several times, to the weak protest of Larry who would take it at once. He is richly rewarded for resisting their different temptations, for it lets him gawk up at the sight of Capable arching above him, her lip twisted and her eyes squeezed shut. That image of her body bending in response to his torturously measured thrusts will be burnt into his brain like Immortan’s brand on his neck. 

When it is finished, Capable keeps her cool body pressed against him, curled together on the seat bench. After she spends several hours blinking in the dark, bravely accepting his arms looped around her, she finds it isn’t so hard to let them stay there when he starts to rub and press her again. She can even let him straighten behind her where she cannot see who it is, so long as she clasps his boots tight under her face, repeating his name into the warm sweaty hollow of one of them. She finally feels the scrambling, slamming power of a young, lean body set free, and she lies still for a long time afterwards, shivering, savoring it. As the grey light of morning seeps into the world, she trails her fingers over the two lumps at the neck of the War Boy who did it, flopped out on his back on the floor of the cab. Sleeping at last.


End file.
